The Lilt and Flow
by Danny Phantom SG-1
Summary: Drabble: Why is music so important to Ryan Evans, and what does it really mean to him?  Slight Ryelsi if you squint and concentrate real hard.


**DPSG1's note: I'm starting to think that soon my friend will have more stories than I do on here! Here she goes again. A drabble about what music means to Ryan Evans. As usual, grammatical errors are entirely my fault, not my friend's, because I proofread. Review, please, and let us know how to improve. Thank you and enjoy!**

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The Lilt and Flow

If people were asked what music meant to them, most might respond with a speech in flowery words about the beauty, the serenity, perhaps even that music is a means of achieving catharsis or relaxation.

But if Ryan Evans were asked what music meant to him, his answer would contain the same words, but with deeper meaning; to Ryan, music was everything.

Music was an escape from a cold, uncaring world. Music embraced the listener in its folds and gave a dull, grey world color. Sharpay attempted to give the world color with her flashy clothes, but Ryan had found music that had more tones than the largest color wheel. Music could be triumphant, melancholy, hopeful, angry, or nervous. It could fit in with any emotion he could think of. On the other hand, how many emotions could yellow portray? Pretty much just happy, happy, and … happy.

Ryan's music gave his world life. A song could cure the heart's loneliness, but it could also make a good time better. Ryan didn't have a favorite song because he realized that at different moments, different songs fit the moods better. When he wanted to have that bubbly feeling of joy and triumph like he felt after Sharpay handed him the Star Dazzle award, he would listen to Queen's _We are the Champions_. When he needed something mellow and slightly mournful, like when he came home after he didn't get a leading role in Twinkle Towne (once Sharpay stopped her tirades and went to bed), he would break out singing _Loch Lomond_, because Scottish songs never go out of style. Then there were times he needed to remind himself that Sharpay was still his sister and that he would be behind her no matter what, and he would settle down with his guitar and sing _You Know I Will_. Music had either the melody, the words, or both to describe any emotion Ryan could think of.

Ryan also understood that music wasn't only a definition in itself, it also defined him. Because of the beauty of music, he strove to make the world beautiful. Because music's soft lilt moved people to tears and warmed their hearts, so Ryan kept himself speaking in softer tones, never yelling. He disliked dissonance in music, and so strove to remove discord from his life. Sad songs were meant to be listened to and felt, just like other people's feelings. He disliked loud, crudely written fanfares and so he attempted to avoid fanfares and fashionable entrances for himself. The most beautiful songs were those that did not try to flaunt anything as extraordinary, but the ones that took instruments or melodies and blended them together without any one part overpowering the others. Because of that he believed that popularity was fickle and that sometimes the softest parts, if made stronger, could make everything else that much lovelier.

Music was not merely a means of expression, it was a teacher, and in its quiet, moving way, Ryan hoped that music could teach the lessons he had learned to Sharpay. Because to Sharpay, the notes were strung together in a way that was pleasing to the hearer and embodied perfection. Her heart swelled as the crescendo came and she could practically see a crowd swooning over the notes.

That was what Sharpay felt as she heard music. The talent, perfection, and raw notes carefully crafted to leave behind a crowd of adoring fans. Music was to be used as a means to gain popularity and love. A way to gain friendship or admiring glances.

To Sharpay, music was not an art, as all the sappy orchestra members might say: music was a tool.

To Ryan, music was everything. His teacher, his preserver, his escape. He just wished that the rest of the world could see what music meant to him. As cheesy as it sounded, Ryan wished he could, "Teach the world to sing in perfect harmony." But he'd heard his friends sing, every one of them. And instead of the rush of sweet emotions that he felt as he sang, every one of them only felt the calculable emotions that could fade as the music does; a surge of love, a moment of anger, an instant of admiration, a rush of happiness.

What he felt when listening to them was little more than a feeling of hurt that the medium of emotion that he loved could be so manhandled by those musical frauds. The only time he felt happy listening to any of his friends was when he heard Kelsi begin to sing, "Everyday." She may not have been hitting the right notes, but the words she sang came from her heart, and that was what had mattered. Not the perfection of Gabriella and Troy singing.

To sing a person needed heart. A wise Roman, Plutarch, once noted in his book _Lives_ that a good politician only existed if, in his personal life, he had a righteous character. Ryan felt the same about those who performed music. They had to have righteous lives, or lives filled with heart if they wanted the words they sang to come from their hearts.

And as long as he lived and as long as he performed, that was what set Ryan Evans apart from everyone else. When he sang, the song came from his heart, and when he lived, he lived as he wanted his music to be; beautiful. Ryan Evans worked to make his life a beautiful life, even if those around him couldn't appreciate it.

Because if he tried to live any differently he knew he could never sing again.


End file.
